


Love Never Fails

by samwysesr



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Incest, Twincest, maxicest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4120306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samwysesr/pseuds/samwysesr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For almost a year, Wanda has lived in torment—unable to accept that her brother died, leaving her all alone. Though she's tried her best to be brave and follow through with his dream of joining the Avengers, with every day that passes she finds her mind slipping a little more.</p>
<p>When something finally pushes her over the edge, she unleashes the full strength of the power that's been growing inside her—reweaving the fabric of time to bring back the other half of her soul.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Never Fails

Love Never Fails

 

* * *

 

If it were a year ago, my day would have started with soft, gentle kisses; I would pretend to sleep, trying not to giggle as his lips danced along my skin. The day would be spent in bed, wrapped in the warm comfort of his arm; we would honor the union we’d entered so many years before—celebrating the anniversary of our love on the same day we celebrated our birth.

Instead of those things, I spent the day in solitude—sitting in the darkened living room of the suite we were meant to share. I was dressed head to toe in black with a shawl draped over my head, mourning the loss of the brother I loved—the only husband my heart and soul would ever chose. All that I was and all that I ever hoped to be had been buried in the cold, hard ground; all that was left for me was a burning agony that was charring me to ash from within.

It wasn’t just emotional pain—though in truth, that was the worst of it; my body ached too—as if the intense, all-consuming rage that dwelled inside me had somehow seeped into my bones, making them throb…  boiling my blood to vapor in the process. My cheeks were raw from the ocean of salty tears I’d shed—as they streamed down my cheeks they felt acidic, eating away at my chapped skin. I did not care—I embraced the pain. All the color had drained out of the world the moment he died; now all I saw was black and red—the colors of my fury and my grief.

I was completely empty inside—a shell of the girl I’d been—however, strangely enough, at the same time, I felt overfull too… like the void inside me was so vast and great that my body was straining to contain it. I could feel it growing fathomlessly with every day that passed—and as deranged as it sounds…that great nothingness… it had a voice. It whispered to me in the quiet times—when I was curled up in my cold, lonely bed, weeping for the loss of the other half of my soul, or when I sat in silence, staring down at his picture.

_Let me ease your sorrow._

Of course I recognized the murmur for what it was—madness, offering me a glimpse of the peace that only it could give; if I let myself slip away, the bitter agony I faced every day would be erased. If I allowed the insanity to take root, harsh reality would fade away completely; I could live out my life lost inside my mind—spending all my days  in a fantasy world with Pietro by my side.

_You are wrong._

It stirred to life, hissing through my consciousness with the raspy sound of serpent scales slithering across the ground; it was the voice of a demon tempting the hopeless—offering their truest wish in exchange for their soul.

_Release me._

When I closed my eyes, I could almost envision it, coiled in the empty space that used to house my soul. It stared back at me, with unblinking vermilion eyes—waiting for me to give in and summon it.

Vermilion. Ruby. Claret, crimson, scarlet; all fancy flowing words describing shades of a single color—the color of Pietro’s blood staining that horrid street in Novi Grad.

The color of passion.

The color… of my wrath.

_Unchain me. Set me free and I will mend things._

 I tried to tune it out—I was not yet ready to take that final, plunging step. There were things I had to achieve to honor my brother’s great sacrifice. Only when I had accomplished his dreams would I allow the lunacy to encompass me—though in truth, I wanted nothing more than to fall into its depths.

The phone trilled beside me, the noise disturbing the still quiet of the room—immediately pulling me out of my head. I growled, lashing out—the receiver went flying. They’d called a dozen times and been ignored—the fact that I wanted solitude was something they could not grasp. I did not want their birthday wishes—the fact they thought I would care about hearing them added to my rage. There was only one thing that mattered on this day—the fact I was spending it _alone._

My eyes returned to the small picture that I held; I whispered the words we’d always shared on this day to his image—praying that wherever he might be, he could hear them. That he somehow could know that I was still true and honored the vow we’d made. As my fingers traced along the curve of his cheek, feeling cold glass instead of the warm softness of his skin, I contemplated—for the hundred thousandth time—how easy it would be to end my agony; perhaps I would have finally given in to the urge to join him in his grave had it not been for the gentle knock that sounded at my door. I did not answer at first, but it persisted—the banging growing monotonous, not ceasing until I screamed out, demanding to be left alone.

“Open the door, Wanda. Please.”

I snarled at the sound of _his_  voice—the one who’s life had come at such  a priceless cost; I should have known they would send _him_   to see me. “Go away.”

“I can’t do that.”

I closed my eyes, drawing my knees up to my chest; my body engulfing the framed picture, trapping it next to my heart to protecting it from prying eyes. “It is unlocked, Barton.”

I did not look up as he entered, though I hissed when he flicked on the lights. “Turn them off!”

“Wanda—”

“You come uninvited  to my room, the least you can do is respect my wishes!” My voice was raspy from all the tears I’d shed—my throat cracked and dry from my endless laments.

“You’ve been holed up in here for a week… everyone is worried.”

“Time is irrelevant.”

“You’re sitting Shiva, aren’t you? Isn’t that supposed to be done right after—”

“How or when I chose to mourn is of no concern to you.” My voice was cold and sharp; if words could be made tangible—given a physical form—mine would cut him like a sword, drawing blood straight from his heart.

“You’re wrong—it concerns all of us. We’re a team, remember?” His voice was almost gentle—but it did nothing to soothe away the burning anger his words caused.

“A team I am only a part of because it is something my brother wanted—I honor his memory as best I can by fulfilling the things he dreamed of. The things that death stole from him.”

He was silent for a moment; when he finally spoke, he sounded almost pained. “You blame me… I understand that—”

“I did not say that. It would be far, far easier on me if I could lay the responsibility for my brother’s death at your feet… but you are blameless. I am the one who was at fault—had it not been for me…” I shook my head, fighting to hold in the wail of anguish that welled up inside me.

“You weren’t there—you had nothing to do with it, Wanda. He died protecting _me._ ”

I laughed; it was a bitter, hollow sound, holding no amusement—flat and lifeless, just like me. “From childhood my brother and I could sense each other’s emotions—it was a natural gift… one that was enhanced by the experiments List did. The bond between us was far greater than any of you realize—much more than you could ever hope to fathom. We were one, Barton. Body, soul… and _mind.”_

His brow wrinkled, his broad, honest face betraying his confusion. “I don’t understand— ”

“I glimpsed inside your head. I saw your children… your wife, her belly swollen with the babe that grew inside.”

He jerked as if I’d slapped him. “You don’t mean—”

“He _saw_   them too—in my mind. He saved you for your _children’s sake._ He did not want them to experience the same agony we did when we lost our parents to Stark’s shell.”

 In the flickering flame of the single candle I’d lit, he looked almost as drained as I felt. “That still doesn’t make what happened your fault. If he were here—”

“But he’s _not._ He never will be.” My eyes dropped to the photo I clutched—a duplicate of the original that was in my brother’s grave. Staring down at all that I had lost… I could not _breathe_. “What do you want, Barton? Why are you here tormenting me?”

“Everyone wants to see you… to spend time with you today—”

“No.”

“Just a half hour. Give us a half hour and I swear to you that after that… I’ll make sure everyone leaves you alone.”

“I do not want to celebrate—”

“Do it for Pietro—you said you’re fulfilling the things he can’t… well this is one of them.”

I cursed under my breath, closing my eyes; that was the one thing I could not argue against—and he damn well knew it. I opened my mouth, prepared to lash into him for using such a tactic, but at that moment, something I hadn’t considered before suddenly occurred to me. “When you say everyone… do you mean… _everyone?_ Even the god has come to this gathering?”

He nodded, giving me a hopeful smile. “He has.”

“I will come for thirty minutes—no more. Then _all_   of you will leave me to my mourning.”

He held up a finger, dramatically making an ‘x’ over his chest. “Cross my heart—I’ll stand guard outside your door if I have to.”

_It is time. Release me!_

“Shut up!” I hissed, pressing my hands against my temples—squeezing my skull in an attempt to silence the voice inside.

“I—”

“Not you,” I snapped. “ I was talking to… myself.”

He shot me a questioning look, but he did not ask me to elaborate—instead, like a gentleman, he moved to hold open the door. I rose from my chair slowly—the way an old woman might do; I was young, but my body ached—the slightest movements felt difficult, like my feet were trapped in tar. No longer was I limber and steady on my feet—over the last seven days, my balance had been one of the first things to go. It was as if the more the void inside me grew, the more  my equilibrium was thrown off balance. I stumbled, almost falling as I crossed my doors threshold into the hall.

He moved instinctively to stop me from tumbling over, grasping my arm and holding me upright until I could regain my feet. I glanced up; his eyes widened—his expression of concern melting into one of shock as he took in what the darkness of my room had hidden. Grief had stolen my meager beauty, leaving a pale, haggard imitation of the girl I had once been; my Pietro was the sun—I was the flower, slowly withering and dying for lack of the warmth of his glow.

“Wanda… my God. When was the last time you slept?”

“I do not know.” I shrugged, swaying on my feet. “The voice never goes away… it won’t let me sleep.”

“The… what?”

“It is quite simple, really. I am going mad. That is what happens when a person feels the death of their soul.” I tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip on me, refusing to let me go.

“That’s just your grief talking—”

“No. It is fact. It whispers through me like a sweet melody, promising to take me away from this wretched existence. In time… I will answer its siren call. I must, you see… if I want to be with my brother again.”

“We’ll get help—” His eyes searched my face; they were wide and desperate looking, making me wonder if perhaps he felt responsible for me because of the sacrifice my twin had made on his behalf. “We’ll find a way to—”

“There is no help, Barton. Pietro is dead—and I _belong_   by his side.”

As the words left my lips, I could feel the beast within me writhe; it raised its head, staring at me with scarlet flames dancing in its eyes.

_I will save you!_

_Embrace me!_

I rested my hand on Barton’s arm, forcing a tight lipped rictus of a smile. “Please… I want to get this over with—so I can return to my mourning.”

His eyes met mine; they were troubled as he studied me, but finally, he complied. We moved through the corridors slowly—his hand steadying me all the while; perhaps he could sense that I was not fully there—my focus was on one thing only… stilling the persistent whispery voice that I carried inside so the others would not see how unstable I’d become.

If they thought I would play along, or act happy or surprised by the gathering, they realized fairly quickly how wrong their assumptions  were. I did not speak as they called out greetings. I did not look at them or return their smiles. I simply stared at the ground as Barton steered me to a chair—all the while wishing I could run away and hide.

“I’ll be right back, I need—”

“Do what you must.” It came out curt and bitter sounding; his thoughts were loud, anxious things, drawing me into his head—though I did not intend to pry. I knew what he felt compelled to do for the safety of the team—but I would grant him no absolution for the act of betrayal he was about to enact against me.

His unease continued to slam into me as he crossed the room, approaching Stark; I could not hear the words they murmured back and forth, but I knew they were talking about _me._ The rich man’s gaze was heavy when his eyes darted up to meet mine; they narrowed as he watched the others hesitantly approached me—the man who had destroyed my world not once, but twice assessed me, searching for some sign that what Barton had relayed was true.

I stared at each well-wisher in stony silence as they neared me, not responding to their cheerful words or taking their outstretched gifts. Only once of them understood my silence—the man I had come here to see; his words of condolence concerning my grief broke through my icy shell.

“He is in Valhalla—that is where all brave warriors who fall in battle go. I know that does not ease the burden of sorrow you carry… but I thought that you should know.”

Hot tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them away, my grim façade melting as I raised my eyes to lock with those of the mighty Norse god. “Is there… is there nothing _you_   can do? Surely a _god—_ “

“Would that I could, little witch, but I am sad to say that I hold no sway over life and death.”

I dropped my eyes, nodding slowly—his words stamping the life out of the tiny shred of hope that had sprung to life inside me.

 “Be brave little one. It is what he would want.” His finger stroked my cheek, then he stepped aside, not  realizing his words shattered me; they carried an echo of the last thoughts my brother had broadcast though my mind.

Immediately my composure began to crumble around the edges; I squeezed my eyes closed, trying to remember how to breathe. I could hear someone approaching me slowly, but I did not reopen my eyes to look up. I had no further reason for pretending to play along with them—the god could not help me. My purpose here was done.

“Wanda… I have been most worried by your absence.”

I tensed, the soft spoken voice making me fight back a primal snarl. My hands clenched into fists—so tight my fingernails bit into my palms—my eyes shooting open to lock on the _machine_   in front of me. I was tired—so tired—of feeling its eyes follow me; of looking up and seeing it watch me from across the room. Tired of the wistful expressions full of longing and the murmured words; tired of the thinly veiled attempts to lure me away from the memory of the other half of my soul—as if the love I felt for my Pietro was of no consequence at all

Before my control could escape me, another voice echoed through the room; I grasped onto the reprieve it offered, looking past the Vision—focusing on Natasha as she entered the room.

“Step aside gentlemen—if I drop this cake, I’m not going to be happy.” The corners of her mouth curved up in the barest hint of a smile. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want one, but the boys all insisted. I think they just wanted an excuse to pig out on sweets.” She tilted the cake so I could see it—never suspecting that her innocent gesture was the match that would light my fuse.

Pietro’s name was not on the cake—only mine was.

“It is still his birthday too.” It came out an outraged whisper. I could not believe that they would _dare_   remove the last remaining connection my brother and I  shared.

Natasha froze, her smile fading. “We thought it best if—”

“I do not _care_  what you thought! You cannot erase my brother just because it is more convenient for your team to forget the sacrifice he made!”

“It’s your team too.” Her voice was gentle, but chastising.

“NO! My ‘team’ _died_   on the street in Novi Grad! My team was two people—my brother and me! My brother who you could not honor enough to add to your fucking cake!”

Stark pushed away from the arm of the couch he was leaning against. “You need to calm down, we were only trying to cheer you up—”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down! _Your_ machine is responsible for Pietro’s death!” I shrieked—the strength of my fury heating my face as my pulse roared in my ears. “You killed my brother as surely as your weapons killed our parents!”

“Wanda… that is hardly fair.” The gentle touch on my arm combined with the familiarity of the android’s tone did nothing to assuage my rage—in fact, it shattered the remaining traces of my control.

“Do not touch me! Do not dare _ever_  touch what belongs only to _him!”_   I hissed, jerking my arm free—disgusted by the thought of _anyone_ laying hands on what would always belong solely to Pietro.. “It is because of _you_   that I am not with him right now!”

“If I had left you there, you would be dead—”

“I _am_ dead! I should be rotting in the same coffin as my mate!” I was so far gone that the words spilled out before I could stop them—laying bare our secret for all of them to see; stunned silence filled the room as they all stared at me, their expressions betraying their shock. “That’s right—you heard me. You think I just mourn for my brother—but I grieve for far more than you could ever comprehend! He was my twin… my best friend… my partner. Pietro was my _lover_ , the only husband my heart will ever chose. My _soul_ died with _his!”_

My hair whipped across my face, blown by an unfelt breeze as the pressure inside me surged; a pain filled sound escaped me  as ribbons of red energy burst from my palms, twining up my forearms like living vines. “This is wrong… all of this is wrong! He should _be_ here!”

_That’s right… just let go. It is time._

“Guys… everybody just give her some room. Step back—” Barton moved towards me slowly, with outstretched palms—the way one might approach a snarling stray on the street. “Wanda—take a deep breath… you need to focus on controlling it. Pull it back before someone gets hurt—please.”

I shook my head, struggling for breath. “No—this is not real. None of this is real—”

_Unleash me, little one, and never will you suffer the cold agony of  a widow’s bed. I will do for you what nothing else can._

“I  know it's hard to face, but it is, Wanda. Sometimes the only answer is the one we don't want to accept—you have to face that he's gone and learn to live with it. _That’s_ reality.”

Natasha’s words were a catalyst, triggering a memory that lay hidden in the very depths of my troubled mind; I closed my eyes, latching on to the image—seeing Mama and Papa’s bedroom as if I’d fallen into the past and was standing in it once again. Papa was perched on the edge of the bed, with Pietro on one knee and me on the other as he talked to us about life.

_“When something seems impossible, at the darkest time in your life—that's when you have to look deep inside yourselves.” Smiling he tapped his chest right above his heart. “All the answer you seek will always lie within.”_

As he spoke, my eyes drifted up to the framed piece of embroidery work that Mama had hung above their bed; the quote was one of my favorites—it was the one I’d earlier recited  to the photograph in my room. Pietro and I had used it in place of vows when we’d committed ourselves to each other at sixteen.

My eyes snapped open—the words of the quote melding together with what our father had said, echoing through my head.

_Release me—all that has been done will be unmade. I will reweave the fabric of time for you._

_“_ This is _your_   reality—” I clenched my teeth—my hands trembling as I summoned up the courage to embrace what I had ignored for such a long, long time. It was time for me to _listen_   to the voice coming from inside.

_I WILL GIVE YOU BACK PIETRO._

“—not _mine!”_  It came out a scream as I dropped the walls inside me, unchaining and embracing the beast that I’d unknowingly constructed out of my grief and rage. My desolation had been nurturing it like mother’s milk to a hungry child.

“No!” Barton dove forward, grabbing my arms—but it was far too late.

My power exploded outward like the blast of a hydrogen bomb—turning the world into an angry red sea. Screams of agony tore from my throat as it continued to erupt from inside me—seismic waves of energy building into a cyclone, their force ripping away all that I was as it  shredded  reality around me. Then I was falling—falling through vacuity, trapped in a silent, empty vacuum as I traveled through a wormhole, losing all sense of time and space.

I was lost for a lifetime in a dimension of my own making—lingering on a plane that should not exist.

I was nothing.

I was no one.

I was… _staring at the key._

"You know, I'm twelve minutes older than you."

 My heart stopped; I turned my head, staring with complete disbelief  at my brother’s beautiful face. “Pietro? My Pietro? You are…” I collapsed to my knees, tears streaming down my face; in less than a heartbeat he was at my side, scooping me up in his arms.

“Wanda! What it is?”

_Fill him. Share. Show him what he needs to know._

I did not hesitate—I listened, my fingers grapping his soft silky hair, pulling his head down to mine; I kissed him with everything I had, my lips conveying the depth of my love as I filled his mind with all that had happened since the last time I’d seen him.

_Weave little witch. Weave him armor. Keep him safe._

 Ribbons of red flowed around us, slowly sinking down and gently encasing him—protecting him from all the threats he might not see. It hovered over him mere millimeters from his skin, surrounding him in its soft red glow.

“Can I get a little help here?”

I pulled back with a gasp, my eyes flicking over to where Barton stood, trying to protect the key. The last time we’d been here, he’d left before Pietro—which could only mean that somehow… he’d traveled _back_ with me. Without conscious thought, I sent out a flare of power—coating him with the same protective shell that I’d given my brother.

“Wanda…. What did you do?” My brother’s voice was raw with emotion, his beautiful eyes full of stunned disbelief.

“I remade the world, Beloved. For you.”

“Sweet talk later kiddos—we’ve got a job to do.” Barton glanced over at me, his jaw tight with tension. “He won’t die on my watch—I won’t let it happen again.”

“Find the child first—do not wait! But be careful—I do not know if I have enough in me to rewind it all again.” Even as I said it, I felt a surge of energy shoot through me; I pulled on it, spindling it in my mind—sending out a blast that knocked back a wave of drones. “Put me down, my love… it is time for us to fight.”

“You are sure you are alright?” Confusion clouded his eyes—I tried to chase it away with a soft, tender kiss.

“I will be fine—as long as you come back to me this time. Go with Barton—watch out for each other, yes?”

“I will be back before you know it.”

He set me down gently, but I grabbed his arm, unwilling to have the last words I said be anything other than what I felt inside. “I love you, my brother, keeper of my soul.”

“And I love you, light of my soul.” He responded, completing the exchange we’d used a million times. He smiled—a happy carefree smile that made my heart twist in my chest. “My beautiful Wanda.”

He vanished—a blur of motion, moving far too fast for my eyes to catch. I flicked my gaze to Barton as I hurled another ball of energy, scattering the machines that were moving up behind him. “I am trusting you with my entire world—do not let me down.”

“I’ll protect him like one of my own. Trust me—there’s no way in hell I’m risking another ride on your freaky time machine. What—” His words ended abruptly  as a flurry of motion swept through the room; Pietro grabbed him—then they were gone.

_He will live. We have fixed things._

“Who are you,” I whispered back, winding up and throwing another mass of energy at the oncoming rush.

Laughter like the high pitched chime of crystal bells shivered through my mind; there was a faint edge to it that reminded me of—

_I am a part of you, little witch. You’re using me as we speak_

Raising my hands in the air, I stared up at the pulsing energy that radiated between my palms.

_Clever girl_

“Thank you—I should have listened sooner.” I crooked my fingers into a disjointed shape, slamming my hands down; when I released the energy, it rippled across the floor like waves, mimicking the gesture I’d made—decimating all the drones in its path.

_You were not yet ready. Now you are. Show them what we can do_

I lost track of time as I fought off Ultron’s robots, but no matter how busy I was, a part of my mind remained  locked firmly on my brother, ready to act at the slightest sign his life was not safe. Through my minds eyes I saw Barton grab the small boy who’d inadvertently shattered my world the last time we’d fought this battle; no bullets riddled my Pietro this time—they’d gotten there early. There was no sign of Ultron in sight—no bullets raining down from the heavens—just an army of machines trying to wipe out anything that moved. Forewarned to the danger they represented, Pietro slammed into the drones before they could fire, knocking them down like dominoes. When the Quinjet appeared in the horizon, I froze—but Barton was expecting it, arrow already notched in his bow. Perhaps sensing the danger he represented, the plane veered off course—heading in the opposite direction.  Despite the evasive maneuver, Barton’s aim was still true; his arrow caught the tail of the aircraft—I watched through my brother’s eyes as the back of the plane lit up, the explosion sending the Quinjet plummeting towards the ground.

I waited as they slowly cleared the streets of stragglers, my anxiety growing by the minute; I was terrified that some great force would strike back at me for daring to challenge fate—but my fear was in vain. When the last person was loaded on the ship, Pietro’s voice whispered through my mind.

_“I am coming for you, sweet sister… hold tight, I will be there soon.”_

I smiled, spinning around in a circle—waving my arms and sweeping another round of the accursed machines into oblivion as I sent a surge of happiness across the bond I shared with him _“Hurry my love. I have been without your arms around me for far, far too long.”_

He was coming… this time we would _both_ make it. My Pietro would become an Avenger, and I would be by his side. We would be together, the way it was meant to be. I was completely caught up in a rush of joy so strong that it completely dispelled any remaining fear that lingered within me—perhaps that is why I did not realize company had arrived. Arms slid around me; I tensed—it was not Pietro’s embrace. I glanced up, scowling at the android, opening by mouth to demand it unhand me—but before I could speak, I was whisked away, the streets of Novi Grad whizzing past me at the speed of light as my hair whipped about my face.

“I do not like the way he was looking at you,” Pietro growled as I wound my arms around his neck.

“It. Not he. Are you jealous, my Beloved?” I teased, closing my eyes—it had been a year since I’d traveled in his arms, the speed was making me dizzy.

“Insanely. You are mine.” He skidded to a stop next to Barton, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “That’s it. It’s done.”

“Not quite yet it isn’t.” My mouth claimed his in a soft gentle kiss  right there in front of everyone—I did not care who might see it. This was who we were—who we would always be; if they could not accept the love we shared, then being a part of their team was not something we could be a part of.

“Can you two not do that when I’m standing right here?” Barton grumbled.

I broke the kiss, shooting him a withering look. “You have a problem with me kissing the man I love?”

“No—it just feels… odd. Like I’m watching one of my kids make out or something.” He grimaced at the thought.

“Does this mean I have grown on you, Old Man?” Pietro arched a brow, the corner of his mouth curving up in a lopsided grin.

Barton snorted, his mouth twitching as tried to hide a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

I stared out at the streets of our city; bittersweet memories flooding through me. It was the place where we’d lost so much—but we’d gained a lot there too. “I will miss this place. It is hard to believe…”

My voice trailed off, my eyes narrowing as a figure came striding into view.

Panic surged through me—was this fate’s way of  making one last attempt to steal Pietro from me? It had not happened like this before—how much had I inadvertently changed? “Put me down.”

His arms tightened around me. “No. Let the others—”

“I have to do this. I _have_ to.” I stared into his eyes, willing him to trust me—his belief in me would give me the strength I might need.

He gazed back at me, his brow wrinkled, but he listened, slowly setting me on my feet. “Be careful, my love.”

“Always.” I squeezed his hand, then pulled away, shaking off Barton’s hand as he grabbed for my arm. Already the power was gathering within me—filling my mind and making red halos dance in my peripheral vision. The bone crushing pressure was back, growing stronger with each beat of my heart—but now… now I understood the cause of it. In time, I would adapt; my body would adjust, evolving as my power did.

“Wanda—” it began.

I did not give it a chance to finish.

“You wanted a perfect world? One without humanity?” I held my hands up, closing my eyes—focusing on my goal. “I am here to give you one.”

“Wait—”

I didn’t.

I threw everything I had at him—this time directing the maelstrom instead of just setting it free. I closed my eyes, jerking my hands—shaping the energy as if I were a potter and it was clay on my wheel—enveloping him in a ball of power that vibrated and pulsed in the air for a moment before slowly settling against the metal of his body.

“What are you doing? What—”

I jerked my hands together in a sudden, violent motion, collapsing to my knees—spots of gray eating away my sight as my consciousness slipped away.

The ball exploded—Ultron was gone.

Then the world went black as my head hit the pavement.

WHEN I AWOKE, PIETRO was in a panic. Though the medics on board the ship assured him my vitals were fine, no one could rouse me from my torpor. Apparently, I’d slept for twenty six hours straight—all those sleepless nights and the amount of energy I’d used had left me completely drained.

I was quizzed for several hours about what I’d done to Ultron; they seemed to think the force of my energy had disintegrated him to dust. I did not correct them—it wasn’t needed. Even if I’d enlightened them to the truth—that I’d created an empty world in another reality and stranded him there—they wouldn’t have believed me.  I was surprised that Barton had not told them the rest of it—they had no idea the extent of what had happened; for now, my secret was safe—and my brother and I were given a brief reprieve. After two weeks of R&R we would begin our training—we were now official members of the team.

Being given time off  was wonderful—the only problem was… we had nowhere to go.  We knew no one in the states and had no money—so we were at a loss. Barton took one look at our tired, confused faces and immediately came to the rescue, insisting that we stay at his home. I knew we would have to discuss what had happened—I could clearly read the thoughts that flickered through his mind. The extent of my power troubled him—he kept picturing what might happen if my ability to unweave time and reshape reality fell into the wrong hands. It was a disturbing notion, but Pietro and I were not the same naïve fools we’d been when we’d unknowingly fallen for List’s lies. Now we understood who it was that was on the side of good—we’d fought with them, side by side.

The Barton farm is a beautiful place—the kind of home that Pietro and I often dreamed of when we were living on the streets. The family was warm and welcoming, even though we were complete strangers—his wife immediately bustling us upstairs and showing us to the room she announced was ‘ours’ whenever we wanted to use it. I was confused by her graciousness—then I realized Barton had simply introduced us by our first names and informed her we were _’together’_. It was the first time anyone had presented me as Pietro’s partner—and it filled me with a bubbling happiness that was impossible to hold in.   

He accepted us without question. He _understood_.

I was still giddy about it an hour later as we climbed into bed after a shower—chattering on about how wonderful our hosts were at ninety miles a minute.

“So happy over such a little thing,” Pietro teased, sliding his arms around me and pulling me close to his chest. “Does it really matter so much to you how people lable us?”

“No… you know I don’t care about what they _think_.” I bit my lip, trying to find a way to explain my happiness. “It is just… nice—having someone acknowledge the extent of our love instead of just assuming we are all screwed up for feeling the way we do.”

He combed his fingers through the damp strands of my hair. “It doesn’t bother you? Not having the fact we are twins mentioned?”

I sat up, eyeing him. “Does it bother you?”

“It is part of who we are—I don’t want to hide it.”

“I agree… but I do not think you are looking at the bigger picture, my love. When we are introduced as siblings, people automatically assume our feelings are filial—they do not realize that we are also a couple. That can lead to misunderstandings—people thinking we are available... that we would welcome their unwanted advances.”

“Ah. Say… from someone who thought they could swoop in and rescue you.” His eyes narrowed.

“Mhmmm. It was more than just what you saw… long searching looks… following me around. Asking me to go for walks—things like that.” I huffed, trailing my fingers along his chest—making him shiver. “I just wanted to be left alone to mourn.”

“I think perhaps I will have a few strong words with the android, yes?” He reached up to stroke my cheek, tracing my lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “I will tell him that you are spoken for and have been for a very long time… and that I do not appreciate his disrespect towards our union.”

“Maybe it will not happen this time. I undid all that—he won’t remember any of it. Now that you are here with me—”

“Still… best not leave it to chance. I will make sure they all understand that we Maximoffs are off limits.” He tugged me down, pressing a soft kiss against my lips, his hands sliding down to trace along my spine.

When I pulled back to take a shaky breath, his eyes were troubled—his mind moving far too fast for me to read. Running my fingers through his hair, I studied him for a moment—he would not meet my eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I must ask you something… it might upset you.” His voice was hesitant; it made me tense, stilling the restless movement of my hands. “How… how did you do it?”

I pulled away from him, flopping down on my back to stare up at the ceiling. I had no idea how to go about explaining something I didn’t fully understand myself. “The entire time you were gone… I was hurting—”

“I’m sorry, sweet sister…. so, so sorry—”

“Hush—let me talk.” I reached over, pressing my fingers against his lips; he growled and nipped at them, earning a soft chuckle in response. “ Stop that! As I was saying…my pain… I know now it was a part of it. It had to happen—but I will get to that in a minute. I was devastated, but I forced myself to go on—for you. So I could achieve the things you wanted. Only the more time that passed… the more it hurt. My heart… my body… my mind. I barely ate or slept—all I did was train, trying to learn how to focus my power in the way they wanted.”

I laced my fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Now that I think about it… what I was putting myself through… it is sort of like what shamans and mystics do to achieve a higher state of knowledge. I was completely broken down, mentally… physically… emotionally. The pain… it was my power growing—evolving so to speak. I think the same thing will happen to you as time passes.”

His brow wrinkled as he stared down at my hand, playing with my fingers. “It makes sense—but how did you figure out what to do? That kind of thing… it’s not like running or using physical exertion.”

“I think if it had happened any other day… I might not have figured it out. The power would have just kept building up inside until it destroyed me—but at the same time… I don’t think I could have done it sooner. I think I had to wait for it to grow strong enough… and for my body to change enough to handle that much power without it tearing me apart. Lately… I started hearing a voice whispering in my head, trying to tell me I was ready—I just didn’t understand what it meant when it told me to release it. When Natasha left your name off the cake…  it set me off and everything fell into place.”

“Cake?” He frowned, the look of confusion on his face slowly shifting into one of pain. “Wanda… how long was I gone?”

“Almost a year—I figured it out on our birthday. When I saw the cake and lost control… she said something to me that was sort of like a key to unlocking it all—it reminded me of Papa telling us to always look inside ourselves for the answer to the hardest questions. And… remember, when we were sitting on his lap that day? How he chastised me later for not paying attention because I kept staring up at Mama’s needlework? Seeing the needlework in my memory… it gave me the strength to believe in myself—to know that no matter how hard it was… I _would_  find a way to bring you back.”

He didn’t speak for a moment; he closed his eyes, a muscle twitching in his cheek. His thoughts were still too fast for me to catch, but I knew him well enough to know he was processing everything I’d said—and I could feel the emotions sweeping through him. Sorrow… regret… and pain, so much pain for what I’d gone through alone.

“It doesn’t matter, my love—you are back with me now,” I murmured, brushing a strand of pale hair off his face.

“It does.” He moved as quick as an adder—rolling us so that he was hovering over me—his eyes intent and serious as they gazed down into mine. “No matter what day it is right now… you started it off alone on our _special_  day. I was not there to say what needed to be said—what I have said every year since the first time you were mine… so I will say it now.”

“Pietro—“

“Shh… let me pay proper homage to my guiding light. To the other half of my soul.”

Tears filled my eyes as his head ducked down, his soft lips pressing against mine tenderly as he entwined our fingers and pinned my hands to the mattress on either side of my head. He pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine—his voice a husky whisper. “Love is patient, love is kind…”

I listened as he whispered the same words he’d murmured into my ear when he moved inside me on that long ago night when we’d finally given in and acknowledged the vast, bottomless depths of our love.  They were more meaningful than they’d ever been before—because they’d been put to the test most grievously, and proven to be true. As he recited each line, his voice thickened with emotion—he felt the significance too.

“It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” A single tear slipped free from his eye, trailing down to land on my cheek; I shifted, brushing my lips against his before both of us murmured the final line against each other’s  lips in unison. “Love never fails.”

Truer words have never been spoken—no matter how impossible things seem… it will always find a way to succeed.

Trust me—after all… it gave me the strength to warp reality and unweave time to bring my Pietro back.

Just imagine what it might do… for _you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Canonly Wanda goes a little crazy as time goes on and her powers increase—I personally think that losing her twin would be the catalyst that set it in motion. Hope you enjoyed it—she wouldn't shut up until I got it written, lol.


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